America's Assistant
by silentmidnightdeath
Summary: America is forced to hire a new assistant. She is his last hope, just as he is hers. Chaos will ensue. Summary Sucks, you should know. Possibly a crack-fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! So…I got bored, so I made this! Ah, the evil products of my mind. Sorry I haven't been updating lately, but Nanowrimo and term papers won't let me. I love you all! I can also guarantee some OCness from the Hetalia guys. Sorry folks.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character, no matter how much I wished I did.**

They watched in dismay as America's newest assistant fled the room crying. The poor girl was just worked through, after having to put up with his antics on more than one occasion.

England frowned. "America, that's your fourth assistant in six weeks."

The man in question just shrugged, as if he wasn't at fault for all this.

A woman stood holding a clipboard and staring at a small piece of paper in her hand. She was dressed in business clothes, a navy pencil skirt with a matching jacket, a white blouse, and black high heels. Her light brown hair was half-up in a bun and half-down, hanging just past her shoulder blades, down her back. Her grey eyes glared frustration as she looked about her before glancing down at the scrap of paper. She had already asked for assistance at the main reception area and had been promptly informed that she must be in the wrong building, because the room she had been told to find didn't exist in this one. And yet, this little slip of paper said differently.

World Summit

9:00 AM

Conference Room H7

Her boss had told her he hand a new job for her, another 'impossible' case. Apparently he had been through four of the others in the past six weeks. She had seen them afterwards, and they had been in pretty bad shape. She wasn't really sure what was wrong with this guy, but he must be a handful. She angrily blew her bangs out of her face before with a sigh, she started down another long hallway. Her turquoise eyes were half-pleading and half-glaring as she searched for the room that she had been told to meet her new 'client' in.

She was so distracted that she didn't even see him until she bumped into him. She hit the ground, her light brown hair swirling around her, as her glasses slipped off her nose. She blinked in startlement before she apologized.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." She mumbled, picking up the thin wire-framed glasses before returning them to where they belonged.

"Gomen. It was my fault as well." The man said, helping her up.

She nodded, grateful for the helping hand. "Arigato."

He seemed slightly surprised before the tiniest of smiles curled at the corners of his mouth.

The woman had reclaimed her clipboard and was preparing to continue on her way. The man paused, noticing something on the ground, and picked it up. His eyes widened slightly as he read the piece of paper, and then he recognized the handwriting.

"Excuse me, but do you know where that is?" She asked softly, noticing him reading the paper.

He nodded. "I was just going there now."

"Ah. Arigato." She smiled slightly in relief.

They quietly chatted in Japanese the entire way there, and the man seemed relatively happy to find someone who spoke his native tongue. When he hesitated slightly before the doors of the room, she just shrugged. What she saw when the door opened, all she saw was chaos.

There was a man sleeping propped up in his chair, though how he managed it with all this racket was beyond her. There was someone talking nonstop about pasta, and another grumbling about how loud everyone was. But the center argument caught her attention. The two men who were fighting looked suspiciously alike, except that one had ridiculous eyebrows and the other had normal eyebrows and glasses. They both had the same blond hair, and similar facial features.

She quietly watched for a minute, as she neared the pair of boys. The rest of the room had fallen relatively quiet, noticing the stranger in their midst, which only made their argument all the more audible. The two were so caught up in it, they didn't even notice her approach. Her turquoise eyes had settled on the one with glasses, as he matched the picture her boss had shown her. Without hesitation, she did what she needed to do to catch his attention.

She whacked him on the skull with her clipboard. There was a reason, after all, the silly thing was made of metal.

"Your directions suck." She commented coolly before walking away.

The man rubbed his head from where he sat on the ground. He could hear the others laughing, or see them smiling.

"Who do you think you are?" He demanded grumpily, still rubbing his head.

She looked at him with a smirk. "Your new assistant, apparently."

His face fell. "But…but…"

"But what?" she said teasingly, turning to face him fully. "But you chased away all the others; but you thought you weren't getting another one. I'm the one they send as a last resort, you know."

The man pouted. "Aw. This isn't fair. I don't want an assistant!"

"Well, maybe you wouldn't need one if you'd just behave, ja?" She retorted.

The room went quiet at that.

Then a brown haired guy practically glomped her. "Ve, who are you, where are you from?" He was clearly Italian, based on his accent.

"Eh? What do you mean?" She blinked slightly.

"Where are you from, silly?" he repeated.

She smiled slightly. "Well...I was born and raised in America, if that's what you mean. As to my nationality…" she shook her head. "…It's….complicated."

"You can tell me! I'll understand!" He said cheerily, having finally released her from the unwanted embrace.

"Well, I'm Irish, Canadian, German, and Swedish with God knows what else mixed in." She laughed quietly.

His eyes were huge. "That's amazing!"

"Oh, and my name is Kiera Kreiger."

"Why am I the only one to have an assistant? Why can't they have one?" The blond man whined.

She glared. "Put a cork in it already, will you? Your constant whining annoys me."

He gulped nervously. Her glare was dangerous. He could feel his hair standing up on end.

"Vell, now vat everything seems to ve under control, maybe ve can get on with vhe meeting?" A man with a heavy German accent said.

She sat quietly to the side, watching as they held their meeting. Her 'client' kept jumping up and saying random things about being the hero, and she had to keep _forcibly_ reminding him to sit down and shut up. After just one day of it, she was irritated beyond belief and done. She was just done. He was insane. That was it. She didn't think she could put up with much more of this before she knocked him into next week.

As soon as the meeting ended, the light brown haired woman set the paper covered with her neat handwriting in front of him.

"Huh? What's this?" He wondered. The others had called him 'America' and she decided that it fit him in a way.

"I quit." She said, completely calm and collected.

"What do you mean?!" Oh boy, he was in trouble now.

She was already almost to the door. "Exactly what I said. _I quit_."

"Wait!" he cried out desperately, groping at strings. "Won't you be fired from your job if you quit being my assistant?"

She turned back to look at him. "And?" she waved one of her hands. "I can get a better one."

"B-but!" He was too late, she was already gone.

America slammed his head into the table. He was in so much trouble. Then, suddenly, a bright idea came to him.

"I know!" He shouted before tearing off down the hallway in pursuit of Kiera.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: here we go again! This is a slight crack fic, I think. Who knows what lurks in the secret corners of my mind? Bwahahaha…**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my characters.**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Kiera sighed softly to herself as she wove through the crowd in the main lobby. She pulled on her beige trench coat and stepped outside. The sky was a dull grey, with the clouds blocking the sun. She could only hope that they held their fury of rain and wind until she was safely home. She could faintly hear America shouting for her to wait, but she was going to do no such thing. Naturally, things never went her way, and less than halfway home, the skies opened up and it began to rain.

America ran after her as fast as he could, with the some of the others following behind, if only to make sure that he didn't cause too much trouble. The blonde stared at a loss, at the overflowing main lobby.

Italy had followed America out of pure curiosity and excitement, and naturally Germany followed him, Japan was following Italy and Ludwig, and England had followed to bail Alfred out of trouble, and France had tagged along to annoy Arthur (plus there was a pretty woman involved) and Russia was just….Russia. (Generally creepy and no one knows why he does what he does)

It was Feliciano who excitedly pointed her out, standing beside the door. She was shrugging on a trench coat that was nearly the same color as her light brown hair.

They had followed her, with America suddenly deciding that he wanted to follow her in secret until she got wherever she was headed. Unfortunately, it began to rain. And not just rain, it was pouring. The countries all opened their umbrellas, which they had brought because they thought it might rain.

Abruptly, she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. The group stopped too, watching her. Slowly, she looked up, and the rain pattered onto her glasses before sliding off to drip on her cheek. And just as suddenly she shook her head, water flying from her hair a million different directions. And she laughed. She just…laughed. With a smile, she spun in a small circle, arms outstretched. After a few minutes she stopped though, and turned to stare at something, before she walked in the direction she had been looking.

Kiera slowly remembered something she had forgotten, and it made her stop in her tracks. She had forgotten how much she loved the rain, and playing in it. She turned her gaze to the sky, ignoring the rain falling on her glasses. Before she could recall that she wasn't a child anymore, she laughed and spun like she used to. Back before Lizz left, before Michael was an asshole, before everything went wrong. And in that moment, she was herself again.

That is, until she heard a tiny little sound that stopped her amusement. She turned her turquoise eyes in the direction of the sound. It was a little alleyway off to the side. She walked over slowly, before she kneeled down slightly, staring at the source of the noise. A tiny little kitten wobbled towards her on unsteady legs, its belly bloated from hunger and its fur damp and scraggly. She could see an old cardboard box, and she could well guess what was in it. With a sigh, she turned away from the gruesome sight, her suspicions confirmed as she focused her attention on the survivor.

And then, suddenly, she wasn't alone.

They all watched, puzzled, as she disappeared from view. America lead the way, walking right by the alleyway, never even noticing it. The others followed him, but Italy paused in confusion, hearing a quiet sound.

He adjusted his grip on the umbrella before stepping into the alley. What he saw was surprising. She was kneeling, gently coaxing the little kitten towards her. It hobbled towards her slowly, clearly unsure of her.

"Come on, little one, we need to get you home." She whispered comfortingly.

He shook his head in amazement before moving to crouch beside her and moved the umbrella over so it covered her too.

She glanced up in surprise. "What're you…?"

Italy smiled gently. "Ve, that is very nice of you to help him. So cute!"

Kiera blushed slightly before smiling back. "Well, I couldn't just leave _her_ here, could I?" She put a slight emphasis on the gender of the kitten as she stood up.

"Someone's probably looking for you…"

As if to prove her point, Germany went running by then. He ran back, staring in the alleyway at the pair. Italy still covered both of them with his umbrella, and they were both smiling.

"I'm sorry." She said sincerely as she stood beside both of them out on the street again. "I didn't really give any of you much of chance…"

"What do you mean?" The brown-haired man wondered.

"I jumped at the chance to get out of this job; and your friend was the perfect excuse. I never really wanted this in the first place…" her voice trailed off as she looked up. "So I really am sorry."

The look in her eyes was so sincere that the other two believed her.

"Why don't we start over?" She suggested.

Italy smiled, nodding enthusiastically. She laughed slightly as he reminded her of a bobble-head.

She turned to head home and was surprised when the Italian stuck by her side. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

He shook his head vigorously. "You might catch a cold!"

She seemed surprised at his concern. "Thank you."


End file.
